


Open letter

by Angelscythe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Honestly that's just something I needed to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelscythe/pseuds/Angelscythe
Summary: If Felix could have the courage, he would say to his father what he has done to him. But he has no courage and the words are the only things he still have...
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Open letter

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me too much. This was just something I needed to write in a personal level. I'm sorry if Felix is a bit OOC...
> 
> Also, please, remember that you matter and you are awesome! You're doing great. Resting yourself is a good thing and that's normal to cry. Reach out to someone if you're not doing good. Stay hydrated!

When Felix discovered the fact his father was there, in Garreg Mach, he made the decision to go see him.

For once, he wouldn’t run away from him.

His problems…

No. He would face them!

He wasn’t a child anymore and he had to face what he faired the most… a talk with him…

No matter what he could say, he could deal with it.

He had defeated Beast, swung his sword around against some of the worst enemies he could find and, strange enough, cheered up friends through their sadness so… he could deal with this of course.

He walked in the Monastery, searching for him but never daring saying to anyone who he was searching. He needed to keep his strength for that moment.

He crossed the paths, the gardens and… finally, found him. He was relieved and afraid at the same time. The man there was the man he learned to hate through his mistakes but he also saw another man. The one he used to love when he was just a child. He preferred to jump and cry in Glenn’s arms but his father used to be nice with him… maybe he should make an effort? Try to come across what he felt? He… He deserved that too.

They deserved it.

He walked toward Rodrigue, opening his lips to call him.

And hear him laugh. And then a second laugh. Light, almost an echo of the first one but yet…

He moved forward and saw his father. With Dimitri.

Talking.

Happily.

They had smile on their face. He watched the Boar with that horrendous human mask… He watched his father, happy as he never had saw him since Glenn was dead… Unless when he was with Dimitri.

And… he just let vanish his intentions to talk with him. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t bear this.

He swirled on his heels and moved back to his room.

His sword was laying on the wall; on his desk, there was white pages that Ingrid gave him for him to study. She was always so supportive, no matter what. Sylvain was always so supportive, no matter what.

No matter his problems, the moment where he couldn’t see correctly through the veil around his head, the bad words, the mistakes…

They were there.

And even if sometimes they made him angry, they were there. Was he there for them enough? He wished he was. Sometimes, he was just standing next to them, listening to problems he didn’t care at all… just because they needed to talk with him and, if he could do something, he could at least be a listening ear.

Even if he had no others solution than “kill them”, even if he was so disabled of his own feelings…

But… as he watched the papers, there, on his desk, he just thought… if he couldn’t bear a discussion with his father, for numerous reasons, he could write what he had on his heart. No matter if he would burn the words after or let to Rodrigue the chance to read them…

He wasn’t good with his feelings, wasn’t good with the words neither. He was just good at training again and again, fighting as if his whole live was written in the blood of his opponent because… wasn’t it the truth?

What was his life if only fighting over and over? What could he offer to the World? He was happy to have been born in a family of soldier because he could fight but… but he wasn’t even sure he still enjoyed that. He was doing it because he couldn’t do anything else. He wasn’t good enough in anything else.

He wasn’t that good enough in fighting neither…

He approached the chair and sat.

Watching the paper, suddenly…

Suddenly, that page was harder than any Beast he had ever defeated. He had beaten so many of them. In such short time sometimes… He had already put agape so many citizens and the joy he got from it… it always vanished because… he had been trained to this. Nothing else…

He was doing what they expected from him.

He was doing his best because… maybe that was the only way, for him, to be seen?

He approached the feather, after having dipped it on the ink of course, from the page…

His hand was shaking.

She had never shaking that much before…

Dear Father, to start? No certainly not. Father? Did he only deserve this name again… Sometimes, he wondered. There was no words that could express what he was feeling.

_“Rodrigue,_

_I’m writing those words in the hope they will never reach you. You wouldn’t believe them anyway. I already tried to talk them to you but you always pushed the fault away. ‘It wasn’t you’; ‘I just didn’t understand what you meant’; ‘I was too young’… but you have created the one who is writing to you, today. Whatever you accept it is your fault or not, you have raised me and I don’t see other reasons to be how I am than the mistakes you did or those you hadn’t done…_

_Rodrigue… Do you know what is it when you tell to a child that his efforts are only valuables when success came from it? Do you know how it feels when you’re never congratulated but the others are? You said Ingrid couldn’t do what I was doing, for whatever reason, so she needed to be cheered up and you showed her you were proud. Don’t you think I would have loved received those words as well? Do you know why I can never stop and I always need to do more? Because, one day, maybe, you will be proud, you will say to me I did well…_

_One day maybe._

_I still wait this day. I still wait for the day or you will watch the efforts I’m doing instead of watching my mistakes. Of course, I’m doing mistakes. We all do mistakes. You are doing mistakes… But you can’t admit it and for a time… maybe I refused to admit them too. But I’m doing mistake too. I never stop doing mistakes, in the hope to reach your recognition…_

_Tell me, Rodrigue, why you can understand others but not me? Tell me why you can explain to me what that Boar, the one you see as your son, feel but me… me, it’s a wrong way to feel? Explain me why you would offer him present in every occasion, but never to me? Explain me why you’re giving yourself to stranger but not to me? What I have done wrongly? Tell me…_

_Tell me because I will try to do better._

_I will work again and again to prove yourself I can do it._

_Would you even watch it?_

_Do you think it would be difficult enough for me, father?”_

Felix’s hands were shaking.

He needed a few seconds.

He needed a bit of time, writing. Letting the words come out of his mind…

He needed to find a path in this maze because the words were jumping so easily from his fingers. The words he had talked to himself so often where finding a way out and it was hard to just… find the good way to let them do.

But…

Did he even have to search a good way?

When you have been destroyed by your own feeling since you were a child, could it exist a wrong way to express them?

He didn’t know.

He didn’t think he was done for this…

_“Rodrigue…_

_I just need to know._

_I just want to understand why you’re like that. Why, when you say good things to me, it always seems to be coated with venom. A venom you don’t even recognize the existence, I believe. For you, it’s nothing. For me, it’s everything. One day, you will express positive vibes, pushing me toward something and the next day… the next day, it’s something you hate._

_Why?_

_Is it something within me you hate?_

_Why did you pushed me on this path? The path of the Sword… the Path you all have taken. Or maybe it comes from me? Because you were doing this? Because you only showed interest to Glenn when he was doing it? You were always training for so long together and still today, I think about it. How I never received this… When I was younger, Glenn was you’re everything and I still think you regret this time… What would have happened if Glenn wasn’t gone? If nothing had been broken within you? You would still be by his side and you wouldn’t have care much about me… Would have preferred that? I don’t know, I’m not sure. Back at this time, I was already too much in the hope you would see me… Did you really see me or you were just searching someone to replace Glenn? Why did I start to be important to you when he was gone? Why, before, you never cared much for me? Why, when I’m with you, I have the feelings you’re not even talking_ with _me?_

_Perhaps… I stopped to talk with you too._

_Maybe I didn’t have tried enough to tell you the things, maybe I never got the courage to do it because you raised me like that. For you, showing courage was a good thing as long it wasn’t coming your path. I remember your words, I remember your looks and I know… I know I never had the right to talk with you. Never had the right to be as I am. Did you ever understood who I am really?”_

Felix took a bit more of time for him.

Who was he?

He didn’t know… He was him, Felix Hugo Fraldarius. But… but that was what he was saying to him in the hope of being himself.

He didn’t know…

Who was Felix Hugo Fraldarius?

_“You’re not always right, Rodrigue._

_You’re not the one who knows everything and you can’t beat everyone in every domain. You can’t beat_ me _in every domain._

_I realized I wanted to be as far away from you as possible, in every way. But we’re the same… We’re soldier. And I can never forget that it’s because of you, thank to you? I can’t never forget you did help me at a time but I became different, I evolved. Maybe… probably I beat you. And… it’s not good enough, right?_

_It’s not good enough for you…_

_I don’t do what I’m supposed to do. The time I hear you say proud words, they are nothing anything for me._

_Somewhat, I still hope I will have you being proud of me for real. But I can’t have it._

_You destroyed me from inside, slowly but surely. You don’t even realize it, you will never accept it and I can’t even prove it to you. But that’s it. I’m an empty shell. With no strength, not even to pretend… I don’t like myself, I don’t love myself, I hate everything I’m doing and I will never be able to do enough. I can’t find joy in anything because everything had been sucked out of me. I can’t even think straight sometimes… and thinking about straight… can’t you stop thinking you know my sexuality better than me? Can you stop thinking to act myself better than me? With time, I don’t know anything about myself except that I’m a mess who hate himself. A mess who had stopped to work to please you because instead, I’m working to forget… filling every hole you made inside of me as you tried to raise me as you wanted._

_You failed._

_You failed so much, father._

_One day, I would like to show it to you but those words… you will not even brush them… They are out of reach for you and you stopped caring._

_Sometimes…_

_Sometimes, I wonder if you know what I would have done if I hadn’t will? When you joked about it, do you know how much I meant it?_

_I’m not doing alright, father. And I wanted to thank you for this._

_You created a mess and this mess has his own will. His own will his destructive._

_And so… so, I step away from you. Because… it’s maybe my only chance to be someone. Who? I don’t know… but not the failure I see in your words and eyes even when you think you’re doing the invert._

_Your help isn’t a help._

_You lacked of tenderness and you didn’t care what it was doing to me because you only saw yourself… Because things should be done as you see them. Your way is the only one mattering for you._

_I want this to stop, father._

_I will do my best to make it stop._

_I will take my live in hands._

_I will not hear you throw me back my error. I will cut you every chance…_

_I will fail, certainly. I will do my mistakes… But… I won’t hear you telling me back again and again._

_With others people by my side, with people who knows what is love and support, instead of you who always think about you and how I’m annoying to you, maybe I could… love myself? If this dream isn’t too big._

_For once, father, I will do the things as_ I _want it and you can’t do anything against it…_

_Your son, probably, Felix.”_

Felix watched the pages of words.

He wondered…

Was it enough?

Did he have killed the worm eating him alive?

Or… was he still not good enough…


End file.
